there.
It’s all about me and Kali tonight.
I should just shoot her right in the fucking skull, but there are a lot of witnesses here. Fuller and Oak Valley Prep brats don’t know how to keep their mouths shut the same way Prescott students do.
So, I’ll flush the rat out and then hunt it down.
“Kali,” I start very simply, reaching up to slip the mask over my face. “Start running.”
She scoffs at me, turning around and swinging her hair in the process, like she thinks she’s still hot with those busted ass lips of hers. I smile, glad that the particular skeleton mask I’m wearing only covers the top half of my face. I want her to see my expression tonight.
Because this, this is the face of death.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she oozes, looking me up and down like I’m the same girl she fucked over in sophomore year. That’s her problem, acting like I haven’t changed for shit. In reality, there’s very little of that old Bernadette left.
I remove the gun from the holster and lift it into the air, firing off a single shot.
Some of the partygoers scream, but when the Prescott kids start to dance and drink again, things calm down quick. If we freaked out over every little gunshot in the southside, we’d never get any sleep.
“I said run,” I repeat, but Kali just looks at Kyler, as if he’s even remotely interested in rescuing her ass. His expression is dark, but it isn’t focused on me. Instead, he’s looking past me, toward the boys.
He came here tonight with murder in his heart, too.
Unfortunately for him, he’ll likely have that wish granted.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kali challenges, her dress too short in the front, too low-cut. I can see her sadness spilling out of it. She steps a little closer, coming toe-to-toe with me. “You’re not going to shoot me in front of all these people; we both know that.”
“I know you had something to do with Aaron’s disappearance,” I whisper, gritting my teeth and wishing I could just rip her fucking throat out with my mouth, taste the sweet copper of her blood.
“You bet your ass I did,” Kali coos back at me, leaning back just enough that I can see the smirk on her face.
From behind me, I hear Vic murmur something to Hael. As I stand there, shaking and fighting the urge to blow Kali’s brains out, witnesses be damned, Hael storms over to the cluster of hastily nailed-together pallets where some grungy Prescott metalcore band is preparing to play a set.
He snags an electric guitar and approaches the microphone with one of those infectious grins in place.
“Happy Snow Day, Wendling,” he says, caressing the mic like it’s some girl’s inner thigh. “My name is Hael Harbin, and I used to rock with these pathetic assholes in freshman year.” He pauses again, giving the audience a break from the carnal purr of his words. You could paint them on you, those words, and they’d form runes that spelled the body into the sweet, sinful lull of sex. “We’re going to play a quick one for old-time’s sake, right guys?”
He glances around at the others, nods, and then wets his lips.
Hael starts to strum the guitar, and I have to hide my surprise. I vaguely recall that he was in a band during the first half of freshman year, but that’s about all that I know. When he starts to sing … well, you could’ve knocked my ass over with a feather.
Fuck, but not in front of Kali. My eyes flick back to find her watching me as the music blasts through the speakers, killing the eardrums of the crowd, drawing their attention to the stage. Everybody wants to see the first letter of Havoc sing while they snort coke and down a staggering amount of alcohol. The Oak Valley kids have really outdone themselves this year.
“Thank you for admitting that,” I tell Kali as the guys do their thing, redirecting the crowd like a flock of songbirds being chased by a hawk. My boys have sharp beaks, don’t they? “I’ll feel a lot less guilty when I finally gut you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Kali says, dancing back a few steps. I notice then that Kyler’s gone, but I don’t care about him. He isn’t going to live to see the end of the night. Both exciting and scary. The Charter Crew will be hamstrung, little more than scattered teenage thugs. Unfortunately, that also means a good